


The Snow Will Follow

by moosh



Series: Just me being obsessed with the idea of Tony Stark having a stuffed Winnie the Pooh that he loves. [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 15:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosh/pseuds/moosh
Summary: Before an after Howard and Maria's death.





	The Snow Will Follow

All that Tony wanted to do was collapse. After several hours of defending his dissertation followed by several hours of celebratory drinking and copulation, he’d found himself facing several more hours of trans-Atlantic flying. He should’ve slept on the plane, but why waste a good buzz?

Now though, as he dragged his final suitcase across the threshold of his parents’ house in New York, the buzz had been replaced by a pounding headache and a bit of nausea. What he needed now was a soft, horizontal place to lay down, and he wasn’t above curling up in the conveniently close pile of luggage.

“Tony?” Maria Stark called as she rounded a corner, laying eyes on her son for the first time in months. “Or should I say Doctor Stark?” She smiled, pulling him in for a hug.

“Oh _god_ , please never call me that ever again.”

“Why? You’ve been working so hard, you should be proud.”

“It’s just – it’s weird. And so formal and snooty and academic.”

“I hate you break it to you, but you now have a Doctorate from Oxford – that makes you a bit snooty and academic.”

“Let’s just keep it our little secret then, all right?” He was proud of himself though. His father had been given a few honorary Doctorates over the years, but Tony had earned this one the old-fashioned way a year ahead of schedule. If he was being honest, having something to lord over dear old dad had been his primary motivation for kicking Oxford’s ass.

“How was the flight?”

“Excellent.”

“I can tell, you smell like a bar rag. Why don’t you go clean up before your father gets home?”

“Oh, so he’s actually going to come into the house?” Tony’s tone darkened. “I figured he’d careen into the driveway slowing down just enough for you to jump into the car before heading off to the airport. Where ya going?”

“Jarvis told you?”

“Yep.”

“It was a last-minute thing, we’ll be back in a couple of days. We’ll be back for the party. We’ll all be here for Christmas.”

“Whatever, I need to go lay down.” Tony sighed heading toward the fancy sitting room. It certainly wasn’t his first choice for a napping location, but it was the closest couch.

He could still be in England. He could’ve turned the one-night stand with Candice into a solid 4-day fling at the house in London. He also could’ve gotten a few more hours of sleep before his dissertation defense instead of frantically packing up his flat to meet the private jet his father his father had arranged for.

Naïvely, he’d thought that maybe, just maybe, Howard had been so anxious to get him home for Christmas because it had been over a year since they’d seen each other. Though after Jarvis told him about the impromptu getaway on the drive home, Tony figured out the real reason he’d been so rushed.

They needed the plane.

That _particular_ plane was the crown jewel of the Stark Learjet arsenal. His father’s favorite. It had been outfitted with all the latest tech, of course, but most importantly it had been outfitted with guns. Which Tony wasn’t supposed to know about.

Jerry, the pilot, had flown in a few days early to spend some time with family before bringing Tony home. He was originally supposed to fly out on the 20th, but was then informed sternly and pointedly that he was to meet the plane at some airstrip in the middle of nowhere the morning of the 16th. After landing he overheard the crew saying that they would be taking off again in about 4 hours and heading to DC.

Tony woke some time later to the sound of his mother gently playing the piano. A blanket was now covering him.

“Wake up dear, and say goodbye to your father.”

“Who’s the homeless person on the couch?”

Tony winced as his father pulled away the blanket – the headache was gone, but the sudden bright light was still unpleasant. He stood up. “This is why I love coming home for Christmas, right before you leave town.”

“Be nice dear, he’s been studying abroad.”

“Really? Which broad? What’s her name?”

“Candice.”

“Do me a favor, try not to burn the house down before Monday.”

“Ok, so it’s Monday. That is good to know, I will plan my toga party accordingly. Where ya going?”

“Your father’s flying us to the Bahamas for a little getaway.”

“We might have to make a quick stop.”

“At the Pentagon, right? Don’t worry, you’re gonna love the holiday menu at the commissary.”

“You know, they say that sarcasm is a metric for potential. If that’s true you’ll be a great man someday.”

“Oh, like you?” Tony spat, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“I’ll get the bags.” Howard frowned, leaving the room. Maria stood up and went to her son.

“Mom, what’s really going on?”

“I try to stay out of it. We’ll be back in a few days. Relax. Enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it. I love you.”

“Yeah.” Tony said quietly, trying to hide how hurt he was that they were leaving town so soon after his arrival. Maria stood for a second, before turning to follow Howard out of the front door.

Tony sighed, sitting down at the piano as he heard his father’s car peel out of the driveway. He began to absent-mindedly plunk out ‘O Holy Night” with his right hand, contemplating how to spend his evening.

He wasn’t going to have a toga party – he had no friends here. He hadn’t lived here full time since he was, what, 7? Maybe he could look up Jake Priddy, they’d been good friends in first grade.

“Sir, is there anything you need? Jean is still here if you’d like dinner.”

Tony turned to face Jarvis. “Pizza. Pizza would be great. But I can call Nino’s, Jean can go home.”

“Very well. I can call though, you’ve had a long day. The usual?”

“Double the garlic knots, but yes, thank you. I’m going to go take a shower.”

“After I call I can help you get your things upstairs.”

“No, I got it. You deserve a break too, I’m fairly low maintenance.” They both chuckled at the thought. Tony Stark? Low maintenance? “Really though, I can take care of it.”

“It’s good to have you home.”

“Jarv, where are all of the Christmas decorations?” Tony hadn’t really noticed when he first got home, but now as he followed Jarvis back toward the foyer it struck him. There was nothing. There was usually a massive tree in the front window, poinsettia plants on every surface, and garland snaking its way up the main staircase. There wasn’t even a wreath on the front door.

 “Your father hasn’t been home much these past few weeks and your mother hasn’t really been up for decorating, though she’d hoped to get something up before you arrived.”

“Where is everything? Out at the warehouse?”

“Yes. Shall I have them deliver it in the morning? 9am?”

“Make it 10. Then get ready to deck some halls.” Tony smiled as Jarvis nodded and headed toward his office to make the necessary calls.

Christmas was Tony’s favorite holiday. He loved the music and the cookies and the decorations and the Stark Industries Christmas Party. Howard was usually less of a prick around the Holidays too, maybe it was all the spiked eggnog? Regardless, it was usually an OK time for the Stark family. Clearly, something had been stressing his mother out if she wasn’t up for decorating – she loved Christmas as much as he did. Whatever this _trip_ was he was glad that it’d be over soon. And when they walked into the house on Monday, it was going to look like Santa’s Workshop.

First though, he needed a shower. And pizza. And hockey. And sleep.

***

“Tony? Tony you need to wake up.”

Tony shot up as Jarvis gently shook his shoulder. He blinked a few times looking around the room, confused. He glanced down at his watch. 9:05. Was that AM? No, the hockey game was still on. He’d only been asleep for about 30 minutes. “Why? Was I snoring or something?”

“Tony…there’s been an accident.”

“What?”

“Your parents. There’s been an accident. They’re…they’re gone, Tony, I’m sorry.”

“W-what?”

“I need you to get up, there are police officers here and they need to talk to you.” There was a wobble in Jarvis’ voice.

Tony’s heart began to pound as he got up to follow Jarvis. “I – what do you mean gone?”

In the foyer there were two stern looking New York State Troopers. “Mr. Stark?”

“What’s going on?”

“Mr. Stark, there was an accident out near Bethpage State Park. It seems your father lost control of his vehicle and crashed into a tree. Both passengers were killed on impact.”

Everything seemed to stop for a moment. The Troopers were still talking, but all that Tony could hear was his heart pounding. They were dead. His parents were dead. How is that possible? Why were they near the park?

“Tony!” Jarvis raised his voice, snapping him out of his daze. “Why don’t you go get changed?”

Looking down, Tony suddenly became very aware that all he was wearing were boxers and the rattiest MIT shirt that he owned. “Why?”

“We need to go down to the station. Come on.” Jarvis put his arm around Tony’s shoulders to direct him toward the stairs.

***

The next few hours were a bit of a blur. At the police station he was handed over to two dudes in suits who said that they were Federal Agents, but ignored all of Tony’s requests to know which one.

After about half an hour of being asked over and over who else knew that Howard and Maria were getting on a plane that night, Tony finally snapped.

“Ok, what the fuck is going on? If this was just an _accident_ then why am I being interrogated? Am I under arrest or something?”

“No, but your father was a very powerful man and we just want to make sure that we have all of the necessary information. It was an accident. A very tragic one.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he stood up. “Fine, then I am done. Call my lawyers if you need me.”

All the initial shock and sadness had been obliterated by anger. He was angry that he was at the police station. He was angry that he was being questioned. He was angry that they were dead. He was angry at his father because it was his fault. Clearly, there was something bigger going on, but even if it had been just an accident, which is what everyone kept telling him, his father had still be driving like a jackass on windy back roads.

He found Jarvis talking to an officer near the front desk.

“Can we go home?”

“Not quite yet.” The officer replied.

“Why not?”

The officer paused for a moment, trying to choose his next words wisely. “Mr. Stark, an autopsy has been requested. We need – we need you to come to the morgue to identify the bodies.”

“Is this really necessary?” Jarvis asked, with a heavy weight of concern in his voice.

“No fucking way. You know who they are, that’s why I am standing here, isn’t it? If it’s not them, I swear to God I will sue the state of New York for every last cent they have. New Jersey will be able to buy us outright.”

“Mr. Stark, I am very sorry, I know this will be diffic-“

“I’m not doing it. I don’t want to see –“ Tears began to well in the corners of his eyes. “They were in a car accident, wont they be all  - I’m not, I can’t, I’m sorry I don’t care I am not doing it – you’re going to have to – “ Tony trailed off slumping into the chair behind him, burying his face in his hands.

Jarvis placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is there any other way?”

“He’s their only immediate family. The Feds are insisting.”

“Fuck them.” Came Tony’s muffled voice.

The officer sighed. “Give me a minute.”

Jarvis took a seat next to Tony. “I’m not doing it, J.”

A few minutes later the officer reemerged. “All right, I’ve gotten them to agree to let you do the ID with pictures. A messenger is bringing them here now. It’s the best I could do kid, I’m sorry.”

“Who the hell are those guys, anyway?”

“SHIELD? I guess they work with the DOD. I’ve never heard of ‘em, have you?”

“No.” But something told him that his father had. He turned to Jarvis, whose poker face was firmly in place. “How about you?”

“Let’s just do what they want, sir.”

Tony sat back a crossed his arms, shaking his head.

After what felt like an eternity, he was taken back into an interrogation room with the two SHIELD agents. There was a single file folder on the table between them.

“Mr. Stark, we have 2 photographs in this folder. We just need you to positively identify the subjects as Howard and Maria Stark.”

Tony said nothing, and continued staring straight at them as they flipped open the folder. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look down at the photos.

_Oh god._

“Yep that’s them. I’ll see you both in Hell.” He said before swiftly turning and exiting the small room. “Jarvis I am getting into the car and driving home right now whether you’re in there or not. Thank you all for the great evening, let’s never do this again.”

***

Peggy’s heart broke when she laid eyes on her Godson the following morning. He was asleep, curled up in the middle of his parents’ bed. His eyes and cheeks were red and puffy from crying. He was clutching a stuffed Winnie the Pooh close to his face.

He looked like he was 6 years old again.

According to Jarvis, the second they got into the car to leave the police station, Tony lost it. It was that deep, primal, barely able to breathe sobbing, and all that Jarvis wanted to do was pull over and console him, but also knew that he needed to get him home.

She couldn’t believe that Howard and Maria were dead. She couldn’t believe that the serum was missing. She couldn’t believe that after nearly 5 decades, Howard still hadn’t given up on trying to create another Super Soldier.

SHIELD wanted her to stay in DC to help with the investigation, but there were people much younger than her to handle that. She needed to get to Tony.

She sat down on the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Tony?” She said, gently.

He jolted awake, and his eyed widened when he saw her. “Peggy? What are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be? How are you doing?”

“Not great.”

“I didn’t know you still had him.” Peggy smiled, picking up the bear as Tony sat up. She’d given it to him the week he was born.

Tony’s face flushed a bit. “Oh, well yeah of course, I mean – I don’t still, just last night, ya know – I was digging in my suitcases – “

“I noticed.”

A pang of guilt rushed over him. After getting home from the police station Tony tripped over the giant pile of luggage that was still near the door. In a fit of blind sadness and rage he proceeded to throw the suitcases and most of their contents all over the foyer. Jarvis had excused himself at some point during the outburst, leaving Tony alone on the floor in the middle of the mess. He managed a slight chuckle when he noticed Pooh staring back at him, concerned. After spending a few moments weighing the pros and cons of raiding the liquor cabinet, he suddenly became very aware of how tired he once again was. Too tired to get drunk. He absent-mindedly grabbed Pooh and headed upstairs, leaving the mess which he hoped that Jarvis hadn’t spent the morning cleaning.

“You used to drag this poor thing everywhere. During your terrible twos, which actually started when you were one because you’ve always been ahead of the curve, all that Maria had to do was let you have Pooh and the tantrum would stop. Eventually they gave in and just let you take him everywhere. Howard said it was the best gift I ever gave him.”

“Yeah, anything to avoid actual parenting.” Tony sighed.

Peggy decided to let that comment slide, knowing that being raised by Howard Stark hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park. He’d allowed Tony to bring the bear everywhere as a toddler, but as he got a bit older Howard felt that the boy should be focusing on less juvenile endeavors. When he’d been sent off to boarding school at the ripe age of 7, Tony was forbidden from taking any toys. Peggy managed to smuggle Pooh and a few Matchbox cars out of the house to send to him with a note saying, _‘Our little secret.’_

“Why don’t you come downstairs for some breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Coffee?”

“Can I put whiskey in it?”

“Nope, not today.” Peggy said standing up. “All right, up and at ’em.”

“Mm, no, we’re going to stay right up here.” Tony said picking up Pooh with the full intention of curling right back up under the covers.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Why?”

“Because I just got off the phone with Obadiah. He will be here at noon with some lawyers to talk through the will.”

“Oh, so mom actually convinced him to leave me something?”

“Tony, they left you everything. Every single cent. Every bit of the company. Every piece of property. Every nut and bolt down in that workshop. Everything. You’ve been given the keys to the castle, so there are some things that we need to figure out.”

Tony gulped. It suddenly felt like there was a 600-pound gorilla sitting on his chest. “Right.” He said, quietly. “Do we – do we have to do this today? Jesus, Peggy, it’s barely been 12 hours.”

“I know, but unfortunately the Sun never sets on the Stark Empire. Obadiah will be here at noon and the men from the funeral home will be here at 4. Today is going to be shit. Tomorrow will be shit. And so will the days that follow. But I will be there with you every step of the way and after we get through it you and I will sit down next to a roaring fire and have two very large glasses of whiskey with a splash of coffee, but for now we are both going to have to put on our big boy pants and plough through.”

After a moment, Tony stood up and was immediately pulled into a hug, which he very much needed.

“I’m so sorry, Tony.”

“Yeah. Thank you. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Of course. I love ya, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Peggs.” He said breaking the hug and stepping back. “Ok – ok, Obie at noon.”

“Get dressed and come downstairs, all right?”

A little while later Tony slumped down at the dining room table across from Peggy.

“Good morning, sir.” Jarvis said setting a cup of coffee down in front of him.

“I’m sorry about the mess, J, I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s not a problem. Eat your breakfast.”

“Remember, no whiskey.” Peggy said, glancing up from a file she was reading.

Tony began shoveling heaving scoops of sugar into his mug. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why was dad going to DC?”

“He had a meeting.”

“At the Pentagon?”

Peggy closed the file to look at Tony. “Yes.”

“Why was mom with him? Was that a cover?”

“They were going to the Bahamas afterward.”

“Oh cut the bullshit Peggy. He was working around the clock and mom was freaked out. What was he working on? What was he transporting? Why are they dead?” His voice cracked a little bit on the last line.

“He had a meeting. He’s had a lot of those over the past few weeks. And then he was going to spoil Maria for a few days to apologize for being away so much. It was an accident, Tony. An accident. Would I lie to you?” Yes, the answer was yes, because she was lying to him right now. But this was for his protection. She didn’t need him getting involved in whatever was going on. She didn’t need him painting a target on his back.

“I’m going downstairs, I’ll be back up before Obie gets here.”

***

“I bet this had something to do with you, didn’t it, Captain Asshole?” Tony said to the Steve Rogers shrine that was his father’s desk. There were 3, large, framed posters from the USO tour on the wall behind it. The shelves on the desk were littered with framed photos from the war, newspaper clippings, and all of the comic books which featured Howard. Nary a picture of Tony or Maria in sight.

Next thing he knew, he’d dragged a trash can over and was tossing things in. He enjoyed the very satisfying sound of the glass frames breaking each time. The posters were a bit harder to maneuver, but shoving them into the can was pretty satisfying as well. A few splashes of gasoline and a matchbook later, and he had himself a nice little Captain America BBQ. _How patriotic_ , he thought.

As the fire died down he turned his attention to his own work station on the opposite side of the shop. There was still an hour or so before Obie would be there, so he figured it was as good a time as any to work on Dum-E.

Last Christmas he’d been working on upgrading the pneumatic sensors, but it had, well, exploded a bit. He hadn’t been able to get the claw working again before it was time to fly back to England.

Dum-E was facing the corner -  he’d put him in time-out before leaving since clearly the explosion had been his fault. Tony smiled as he sat down at the computer and started typing in the commands to wake the bot up.

“Dum-E, you ready for a facelift?” Tony was taken aback when he turned around though – he wasn’t broken at all. The claw was new and shiny and there were some new wires running into the sensor cuff he’d installed last year. There was a small red bow and a card on the arm, which Tony immediately grabbed.

_Fixed him up. Made a few upgrades. Hope you don’t mind. Merry Christmas. Dad._

The bot nipped gently at Tony’s free hand. He kept staring down at the card, and then back over to the still smoldering trash can by Howard’s desk.

“Dammit, Dad.” He said quietly, sliding the card into his pocket. “All right, Dum-E, to the elevator. I’ve got a mess to deal with upstairs, and I’m going to need all of the help I can get.”


End file.
